


Prayer

by EdGluskin



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Coming to terms with being gay, M/M, Violence, praying, serious topics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 23:04:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12242382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdGluskin/pseuds/EdGluskin
Summary: Michael and Robert's journey to Mass Pike Intersection





	Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> {Something that happened to me in-game. Watching MacCready pray made me think he's praying about his wife and son. So. Enjoy this tear-jerker}

The road trip Michael had planned with MacCready wasn’t supposed to be easy. They were scheduled to travel from Sanctuary Hills, all the way across to Mass Pike Intersection.

The mercenary had begrudgingly confided in the Vault Dweller of his debts and issues, and after some serious discussion Michael had gladly offered his services to him. MacCready, though indignant to accept because of his own pride, accepted.

And now here they were.

Michael had warned MacCready beforehand that during their travels, he would probably go explore off of the path for supplies. The young merc showed no issues, but as it was starting to fall into dusk, he was starting to complain.

“It’s getting dark, Boss. Shouldn’t we set up camp or hide out somewhere with a roof?” MacCready perked up from the back, eyes darting around the hilly brown terrain. He looked behind him, and could’ve sworn he caught a pair of glowing eyes watching him from the dried brush. He turned and caught up to his partner.

Michael rolled his eyes as he made his way over a large, rocky hill and stopped at the top of it to turn around to his partner. “Mac, I told you that calling me Boss isn’t necessary. Michael or ‘Mikey’ will suffice, I promise.” He watched MacCready scrunch his nose up a little, but let it slide.

“And don’t worry, I just wanted to snoop around this camp up ahead before we crash for the night, alright?” He looked out over the view he had. Down the hill and across an open expanse of brush was a camp that was made around a bunker, with shacks and turrets positioned around the area.

MacCready slung his rifle over his back and grabbed for the boulder that was dug deep into the top of the hill. As he hoisted himself up, his foot slipped out from under him and he fell the foot or so back down to where he was before. He grunted, and Michael held back a laugh as he leaned down and outstretched a hand to him.

MacCready, with his ever present pride, pushed the help away and tried again with success. The Vault man shrugged off the reject and started down the hill toward the camp. When MacCready got a look for himself, his eyebrows raised off of his forehead and he smirked. “Yea let’s check it out.”

Michael smirked. He let his feet slide down the hill, and he braced himself against a rock. He leaned against it and crouched, leaning his head out to view the camp before him.

A couple of dogs with barbed collars walked the expanse of the camp, and a couple of raiders lounged around on couches and chairs that circled a large campfire where Mole rat meat slowly cooked over.

The smell of the Mole rat meat would be perfect to muffle their own scents toward the dogs, and Michael grabbed for the rifle that was slung over his back to replace the pistol he usually used. The rifle, nicknamed _Reba 2,_ was a prized possession for the ex-military man. It was muffled, which helped when sneaking around dangerous areas, and was lightweight. MacCready had expressed jealousy over his Boss being granted the rifle for helping a man off the pier with mudcrabs, but after a while he learned to live with it.

Michael specifically remembered Mac grumbling out an “I helped too, where’s my rifle” under his breath as they left the basement the man was hiding in. It was funny, and Michael jokingly tried giving it to him out of the ‘kindness of his heart’, but MacCready had reeled back and clocked him in the jaw for the mocking. They never mentioned it again.

Michael fixed Reba 2 up, and placed her on the rock he was hiding behind to make sure he had a straight shot. He hadn’t eaten yet that day and his hands were shaking slightly.

He looked through the scope, and situated the dot right between the eyes of a Raider that was drinking a beer lazily on the couch sprawled right before the fire. He was mumbling something to another Raider as Michael pulled the trigger.

Blood sprayed against the backdrop of the setting sun, almost making it poetic in a way, and the camp slowly erupted into panic.

Michael waved his hand, signaling MacCready to take perch over hidden in the brush across from him. The younger man obliged, slipping into the overgrown weeds and bushes, and situating his rifle up on a Raider hurriedly rushing for one of the shacks.

One shot had her taken down, slumping to the ground with a crack. MacCready casually replaced his ammo, and as he fished out ammo, Michael fired another bullet toward a Raider closer to him. The bullet didn’t exactly get the target he intended, but whizzed and sliced through the top right half of the man’s skull. He slumped to the ground, gargling blood as he went. As Michael moved around the rock he noticed the man was still alive.

MacCready stayed hidden in the brush as Michael made his way down into the camp. He slung Reba 2 around onto his back and pulled the pistol out from his holster. He slipped bullets into the chamber, looked through the scope, and shot a bullet straight through a Raider’s kneecap. The Raider went down, screaming as he tried to pull himself toward his weapon.

Michael ran up, using his knife to dig it into the Raider’s skull before turning around and hiding behind one of the buildings that rested on a hill above the bunker.

Killing was never easy for Michael to do. To be honest, when all was said and done he despised having to kill. But as he learned through living in this new world he used to call home, it was either him or the person pointing the gun at him.

Slowly, though, he didn’t know if he rather wanted himself or the enemy to live. It was an issue he constantly struggled with.

 The bunker was stocked heavily with food and Raiders, but Michael found himself disinterested in the food as he finished up taking out the Raiders.

MacCready looked confused as he grabbed for a box of potato chips off of a dusty shelf. “You don’t wanna bring this back to Sanctuary Hills? More food is better than no food, ya know.”

Michael sat down on a crate, cleaning up his pistol of caked on blood. He paused in his cleaning and looked up, deadpanned. “Mac, that kind of food had stopped being made around the time of the Great War. That was over 200 years old. I mean, if you wanna eat 200 year old chips, fine by me. I’m gonna stick to slightly radiated carrots thank you.”

MacCready looked back down at the chips, and set them down. His memory flooded with past images of eating this type of food on the road with Lucy and how it was the only thing he could get while constantly moving. He felt his throat choke up slightly, and snatched a couple containers of food. He shoved them in his pockets and turned back to Michael.

He caught his Boss watching, but thankfully for him he didn’t comment.

“Ready to go? I think there’s a way out back here.” Michael piped up, and the two set off for a tunnel brightly lit by spotlights. The tunnel ended with a ladder, with a floor latch up above them. Michael took the ladder first, and climbed it.

Lifting the latch caused dust to billow up, and he coughed heavily as he slid out onto the floor. He waved his hand in front of his face as his eyes watered, and once the smoke cleared he looked around.

The church roof towered up above them, and everything seemed to be deathly quiet.

The only sound to be heard was the shuffling of MacCready’s boots against the wood flooring of the church as he clambered up from the ladder. The mercenary was silent when Michael looked at him, and his face unreadable.

“Let’s camp here for the night. I can roll out the sleeping bags and make a little defense wall around us using the pews.” Michael said, pointing out his plan as he talked. MacCready just nodded and walked around to one of the pew seats.

Michael watched wordlessly as MacCready slung his rifle down against the side of the pew and sat himself down. The hired gun then clasped his hands together, leaned forward until his elbows rested on top of his knees, and prayed.

The man prayed as if Michael wasn’t even there, and it shocked Michael deep in his gut. The kid had never been to church probably, living his life killing people for a living, stealing and bribing and fucking people over to survive…and yet here he was praying at a pew like the world around them hadn’t gone to shit. Like the apocalypse never happened.

He probably didn’t even fully know what happened at a church, and what praying really meant. But here he was.

MacCready’s eyes were closed as he mouthed words breathlessly against his hands. He was praying all right, and Michael quietly walked around him to sit down next to him at the pew. The merc paused in his prayed, but didn’t look up or move. He just opened his eyes and glanced in his direction, eyes almost glowing from under his bowed hat.

“Mind if I pray with you, Mac?” Michael asked softly, and he silently nodded once, stiffly, and went back to praying as if the man didn’t just interrupt him.

As Michael sat there with his head bowed and hands clasped in his lap, he could distantly hear the muffled words MacCready whispered against his hands.

“- _and I miss you every day, Lucy. I just hope you’re happy up where you are…wherever that is…just know I miss you. A lot._ ”

Michael blinked, and then stopped trying to listen in as he closed his eyes and started to pray.

The man had a wife, what he assumed was his wife, and something in his chest had it hurting. A tightness in his throat kept him from talking like Mac was doing, and sympathy started to bloom across his chest as he thought about his own wife. His own wife who was sleeping currently deep in the ground, frozen and stiff with death.

He stopped his thoughts like hitting the brakes of a speeding car, and suddenly stood up. He caught his hired gun’s attention, and Michael forced a broken smile across his lips before nodding to him. “I’m gonna get started on setting up a place to sleep.” And left him alone.

As the stars lit up the night sky and Michael fixed the sleeping bags in the back of the church against a sturdy wood wall, MacCready got up from his place on the pew seats. His legs ached from staying there for a while, and he slowly made his way to where Michael was fixing up their sleeping arrangements.

“Thanks.” MacCready softly said to Michael as the older man got up from his crouched position next to his sleeping bag. He glanced up at MacCready and smiled a little before shrugging nonchalantly. “No biggie, Mac. Just pick a sleeping bag.”

MacCready smiled sadly, and picked the sleeping bag closest to the barriers Michael created. He shed his outer layer of clothes, folding it up and placing it at the head of the sleeping bag to create a makeshift pillow. He pulled his hat off of his head and placed it next to him as he slipped down onto the flat makeshift bed.

Michael watched him do this. MacCready was always good looking, Michael knew this. And he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt for him. But right now all he could think of was how he was feeling, and he felt worry blossom in his chest like bird wings opening for flight.

As Michael layed down next to MacCready, a couple inches of space between them with his back to the man, Michael coughed softly. “Hey Mac?”

“Huh?” Mac mumbled over his shoulder.

A silence stretched in between them, and Michael fought between saying anything at all. After a moment, Michael let out a sigh. “I wanted to tell you about my wife.”

MacCready grew stiff, but slowly moved so he was on his back propped up by his elbows. He cocked an eyebrow, and Michael duly noted how cute he looked with his hair slightly ruffled from laying down. Michael propped himself up too.

Something in MacCready’s eyes was serious, and as he looked over at Michael the Vault man partly regretted starting the conversation. He should’ve just let the man sleep in peace. Nothing good came from pestering or oversharing.

“She was one of the ones that didn’t make it from my vault.” Michael started. MacCready opened his mouth to apologize, but Michael put a hand up. “No. I know what you’re about to say. It’s okay.

“She was one of the few women in my life who I trusted with my life. We both met on base in the military during training and…I dunno.” He casually fiddled with the straps on his leather shoulder armor.

“We got along. A lot.” He gazed up at MacCready, who seemed to be listening intently. And in that moment, something in him clicked. He didn’t exactly care about what he hid from this man he’d only known for less than a month. Something in him had Michael drawn to him, and he knew he could trust MacCready to an extent.

“I just…I never had an attraction to women. But I knew that I liked Nora. We got along, we did everything together…but I think she knew as well…part of her did at least. I came from a family who didn’t exactly understand or accept people who were different, and when I started to realize my sexuality it was shut down.” He sighed.

“I married Nora without loving her the way a man should have loved her. We were best friends…but nothing more came out of that. I knew she wanted a family and a house and a child, and I knew she wanted that with me…and I wanted that too, just…”

“With a man.” MacCready finished, and Michael glanced up at him with raised eyebrows. The silence surrounding them both seemed to be so…loud…in that moment, and Michael looked away, embarrassment on his face and a flush reaching his face.

“Yea. That.”

MacCready looked thoughtful for a moment, and he looked down as he thought of what to say. “I understand what you mean…Michael.

“I…can relate to you somewhat. I had a wife, as well, but unlike you she was the only woman I did actually love fully. I never found women attractive either. Except her, for some reason. And she was all I had in the Commonwealth…”

A silence stretched between them, but a comfortable one. Michael found a smile grace his lips, and he met MacCready’s eyes. The younger man cocked an eyebrow.

“I have a good feeling about us, Mac. I’m glad to have met you in Goodneighbor, ya know that?” Michael finally said, and that seemed to have MacCready smiling.

They both eventually called it a night and got into their respective sleeping bags. The night was rough, but they both took turns keeping watch and got enough sleep to wake up feeling rested.

That morning, Michael gifted MacCready his Reba 2, and this time he didn’t get clocked in the jaw.


End file.
